Going Green
by House's Girl
Summary: The gang at PPTH celebrates St. Patrick's Day!


1**Going Green**

The first floor clinic lobby at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital was awash in a sea of green in honor of St. Patrick's Day. Shamrocks and leprechauns hung from every counter and balcony, while the nursing staff tried hard to keep clinic patients from vomiting on their crisp green scrubs.

Everyone in the clinic and throughout the hospital couldn't wait for their shift to end, so they could head over to O'Flaherty's and celebrate properly with bottles of Guinness, shots of Bushmills and the requisite green beer.

Gregory House walked into the lobby at exactly 9:45 a.m. and scowled at all the green decorations floating before his eyes.

"Nurse!" House shouted to the three nurses working not two feet in front of him at the desk.

"What can we do for you Dr. House?" Brenda asked with an aggravating edge to her voice.

"I'm seeing green and I feel like I may hurl any minute," House said, giving a lurch like he really was going to heave any minute.

"Make sure you turn your head if you do," Brenda said, barely looking up at him.

Having heard House bellow, Cuddy came out of her office and marched up to her most brilliant and most annoying doctor.

"House! Why are you yelling? What have I told you about using your indoor voice?"

"This is my indoor voice!" he shouted again.

"Grabbing him by the arm, Cuddy steered him to an alcove where she could talk to him in private.

"Now, what's the problem? There are lots of people around here of Irish descent and those who just like being Irish for a day. There's nothing wrong with having a little fun."

"What's Celtic for 'Bah, humbug'?" House asked as he stole a quick glance at her green satin-covered cleavage and the little silver pendant that nestled tantalizingly in between them.

"House, just because you don't like this holiday doesn't mean you should spoil it for the rest of us."

"So, I suppose today you're Lisa O'Cuddy and Jimmy is James O'Wilson?"

"Yeah, and our president is Barack O'Bama," Cuddy snarked. "Now, go check in and get to work. You owe me three clinic hours this morning and you're already late."

House limped to the desk and dropped his backpack on the other side near Brenda's feet. Again, she barely flinched. As he reached for a chart, he watched Cuddy round the counter and head back into her office. He couldn't help but admire the view from the rear as she pulled open the outer door.

It suddenly hit him that Cuddy was wearing the same silver pendant she wore whenever she was going on a blind date. House was both curious and a little sad as he wondered who the lucky guy might be.

**********

House wolfed down his lunch of corned beef and cabbage, courtesy of James Wilson and the PPTH cafeteria crew, but drew the line at the lime green jello.

"So, who's Cuddy going out with this evening?" House asked Wilson in what he hoped was a casual voice.

"Did she tell you she was going out this evening?"

"Would I be asking you if she had told me she was going out this evening? Besides, she didn't have to tell me, she's wearing her 'get lucky' pendant and that can only mean one thing."

"Riiight, jewelry never lies."

"I'm not saying it's lying. It's just not telling the whole truth," House whined as he snagged Wilson's ice cream bar and took a huge bite. "She's wearing a new green satin blouse, that black skirt that leaves nothing to the imagination and those 4-inch 'I mean business-and-I-don't-mean-the-budget' heels."

"House, get a hobby. Get a distraction. Do anything but follow Cuddy on her date tonight at O'Flaherty's."

"Ah, ha!" House shouted. "I knew you knew something about this date!"

"OK, I wasn't supposed to say anything," Wilson whispered conspiratorially, "But, she met a guy at that Endocrinology Conference in New York last week and they're meeting for drinks tonight at O'Flaherty's. His name is Seamus Butler. He's Irish, 45, divorced, and he thought it would be fun to show her how the Irish really celebrate St. Paddy's day. Just promise me you won't go over there and ruin their evening."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Jimmy Boy." House grabbed his cane and headed for the elevators with a smirk on his face. If he had turned around, he would have seen an equally smirking Dr. Wilson.

********

House sat in his Eames Chair, scratching his stubble and thinking about how he could find a way to interrupt Cuddy's evening without it getting back to Wilson, who wouldn't be joining him tonight, since he was catching a flight at o'dark thirty the next morning.

Since his patient had been discharged the day before and he didn't have another one lined up, House knew it was going to be tough to ask for a consult, especially in the middle of a crowded Irish pub.

As the carbs from lunch began to kick in, he decided he would just have to come up with an idea after his afternoon nap, but definitely sometime before he got to the bar. As he drifted off to sleep in his ridiculously comfortable office chair, he was momentarily disturbed by images of Cuddy doing an Irish jig with a handsome, too-tall leprechaun.

********

By five o'clock most of the day shift was out the door and on their way to O'Flaherty's, which was just two blocks from the hospital on Nassau Avenue.

The Irish-themed bar & restaurant was hopping with people drinking all varieties of beer and whiskey and loudly singing Irish songs, even those that didn't know the words.

House entered the bar around 5:30 p.m. to find all of his ducklings, old and new, hanging out together and heatedly arguing over who was going to buy the next round of drinks. Each one wanting to do the honors; none of them wanting to be outdone. House just smiled as he thought that this must be what "bar room heaven" is like. He also made a note to himself to review just exactly how much they were being paid.

"Care to join us?" Chase asked and immediately thrust a shot of Bushmills into his former boss' free hand. Realizing their table afforded a great view of the entire main room of the traditionally-decorated Irish pub, House nodded and took a seat on the end next to Cameron, who was halfway through her second Guinness.

"A group of med students began singing "Oh Danny Boy" for what House discovered from the group was their 3rd time since 5 p.m. _This is going to be just lovely_, House thought to himself as he knocked back the Bushmills.

His ducklings were starting to laugh and giggle a lot more as the next round of drinks arrived and were plopped down on the table by a pretty, dark-haired coed wearing a nametag that read: Colleen.

As he made a silent bet with himself that her real name was probably Tiffany or Denise, that's when he saw Lisa Cuddy enter the pub and take a seat at the far end of the bar. She placed her purse on the seat next to her, like she was saving it for someone. He watched her order a Jameson on the rocks, take out a mirror, check her face and fluff her silky, dark curls. All like a woman anxiously waiting for a date.

_She's actually preening,_ House thought. _She must really be interested in this guy. _

House wondered how she didn't see him and his fast-becoming inebriated ducks when she entered, but the place had gotten steadily more crowded by the time she arrived around 6:15 p.m.

House watched several nurses chat with Cuddy before moving on to join their friends at assorted tables and booths. A few guys sidled up to her and offered to buy her a drink, but she politely refused each time. By 6:40 p.m. he watched her glance at her watch with a fretful look and bite her bottom lip like she does when she's worried.

_The bstard's standing her up_, House thought angrily to himself. Well, no one messes with Cuddy, but me. _If he hurts her, I'll ram this cane so far up his ss, he'll be singing soprano for the Dublin Boys Choir. _

Taub suddenly noticed the distracted look on his boss' face and followed House's laser blue stare to the object of his attention. There he saw Lisa Cuddy and knew that House wouldn't be sitting with them for much longer.

As if on cue, House stood with only a slight wobble, and made his way to the hand-carved mahogany bar, which was now three-deep with thirsty patrons.

"Looks like you could use a little luck of the Irish," he said, looking deep into her dark blue eyes, trying to get a reading on her mood. "Looks like you've been stood up."

"Actually he's just arrived," Cuddy said with a flirtatious smile. House whipped around ready to take on the big Irish jerk, whoever he was, only to find her moving her purse and offering him the seat next to her.

"Happy St. Patrick's Day, House."

"Happy St. Patrick's Day, Cuddy."

The End


End file.
